Moondance
by Bringer of the Tide
Summary: A challenge is made, and Aragorn readily accepts. T for implied pairings, Aragorn/Boromir


**A/N:** So, I don't have much in the way of LotR fanfictions up, because I draw a lot more than I write, but inspiration has finally struck me. I was listening to "Moondance" by Nightwish the other night, and came up with this scene in my head. It's only the second time I've ever tried to write for this particular fandom, but I hope I've done well. Anyhow, here you are. Enjoy.

* * *

The Ranger drew his blade at the unspoken challenge in the other man's gaze. Said gaze hardened, and the Gondorian drew to meet the Ranger's acceptance of his invitation. The moonlight slid down the edge of his blade like liquid silver, pooling and gleaming at the tip. Neither man struck, each sizing the other up. Storm cloud grey never left electric blue, their eyes still locked with the yet unspoken challenge.  
Boromir began to circle first, having initiated the challenge. Aragorn fell quickly into stride with him, circling the opposite way. Both circled in this manner, weapons at the ready, but not positioned to attack. The air was thick with tension of several kinds, creating a calm-before-the-storm type of atmosphere around the two warriors. Their circling became constricted and drew them closer together, until only two yards or less separated them.  
A resounding, solid metal clang rose into the night like a war cry as Aragorn's blade rose to parry the blow that suddenly came forth. Like that, the fight had begun, each man dancing around the other in a flurry of lightning fast blows to the other. Dust was thrown about with the fury and speed of their footwork, each step taken so fast and sure that the movements appeared to have been carefully thought out and practiced a thousand times. Each deafening, metallic clash was met by another in rapid succession, as if both knew where the other intended to strike before he had moved his blade to do so.  
Neither man's blade struck his opponent in the furious hurricane that they had made, whirling about each other in a deadly dance whose choreography was only one that should be followed by an expert swordsman. It was easy for Aragorn to deflect and dodge the blows with his almost elfin reflexes, and the grace and lightness of his step. What Boromir lacked in grace, he made up for with hard experience and sheer brute strength. For every well placed blow that the Ranger delivered, there was always a solid, carefully planned parry to meet it.  
The challenge still burned brightly in the blonde man's eyes and had spread over his face in a defiant smirk as he met Aragorn blow-for-blow, keeping eye contact with him. Adrenaline flooded Strider's head and clouded his thoughts momentarily, causing him to misjudge and strike too quickly. Boromir flung his blade up and sent the Ranger's sword singing off of his, striking out again. The tip of his blade flicked over Aragorn's face and left a razor thin cut along his jawbone. He raised his head like a displeased horse and set his mouth into a tight frown, eyes smoldering. The defiance on Boromir's face grew stronger, burning clearly in his gaze as he stepped back, still never breaking eye contact.  
The man was beautiful, strong, and in his own ways, noble. But he was too high-spirited. Bull-headed, like a headstrong young stallion. He needed to be broken, and it was evident. The ever present challenge seemed to have expanded to fit with the Ranger's attempt. Boromir held his gaze steadily.

_Let's have it then._

His eyes mocked as he stepped to the side to parry another crushing blow.

_Let's see your attempt. I am a son of Gondor. You are a Ranger, you cannot break me. I have broken many men foolish enough to think that I could not, men who claimed to be my better, but not one man has dared claim he could break me. So try, if you believe you can._

The last blow dealt had set Boromir on the offensive, causing him to give several feet of ground. They had begun to circle again, gazes locked once more. The look in Boromir's eyes had changed. No longer was there the haughty, arrogant look of defiance, but a different fire burned here. His slow, deliberate sidestepping brought him closer, and he continued to stare Aragorn down. The Ranger's face remained the same. A slight frown upon his lips, eyes narrowed, staring into the proud Gondorian's lightning blue gaze. Boromir lunged forward to strike, but was denied with a quick parry. Aragorn brought his sword up and struck to meet his adversary's blade. There was a loud screech of metal as he forced the other back, his blade slipping down the edge of Boromir's own.  
The friction caused a spark between the blades that reflected in Boromir's eyes. There was that familiar gaze again, the one that Aragorn had often raised his eyes to find boring into him, only to lower them again as a signal to find him later. His eyes did not lower in consent this time, but narrowed further in a fierce determination. At this, a coy, almost inviting smile played at Boromir's lips. His eyes retained that forceful, lustful gaze, the look on his face now completely one he reserved for Aragorn, and Aragorn only. He held Aragorn's gaze captive, bringing to the Ranger's mind scenes from previous sparring matches of a different kind. Memories of events caused by that same gaze: The silver, silken light of the moon tangled in the gold of Boromir's hair, accenting the shadow on his face, striking boldly across his bare, pale body, and the way it made his skin look paler. Short, fleeting flashes of the way that skin felt under Aragorn's rough hands, how responsive a simple touch here or there could make the man.  
Aragorn snapped back to the presence as he was thrown back forcefully. He stumbled and regained his footing, looking up to find that Boromir had not waited for his opening to pass. He stepped out of the way as the man brought his sword down, grazing the Ranger's right shoulder. The chain mail there prevented damage, but with the force of the blade, there would be a nasty bruise.  
Their dance resumed, and once more the shrill whining and ringing of blade crashing against blade rang through the darkness. Once again, Aragorn had the Gondorian man on the defensive, sending him backwards with swift, solid blows. Sidestepping a down cut blow meant for his thigh, Boromir found purchase on a boulder jutting from the ground and crouched slightly, muscles tensing. He blocked the next overhead blow and repelled Strider backwards, immediately kicking off of his foothold, following the direction that he had thrown Aragorn. He came down upon him blade first, caught by the flat of the other man's sword. Aragorn thrust forward firmly, pushing Boromir off of him and onto the ground. Boromir's chest heaved as he stared up at the other man, the defiant resolve in his eyes hardening. He pushed himself back onto his feet and attacked with renewed vigor, his blows coming down harder. Boromir, Son of Gondor would not lose this fight. He was determined to make sure of this.  
Each man was solely concentrated on defeating the other, forcing him to relent, and both ignored the creeping hand of fatigue as it closed around them each in turn. Neither would give out first. Determination alone was not enough, however. Reactions got delayed, and furious blows had begun to lose their edge. Footwork was not as careful as it had been at the start of the battle.  
Finally, an opening surfaced, and it was taken. Boromir had made a mistake and Aragorn caught it, striking close to the hilt of the other man's sword with his own blade. He twisted the length of his weapon so that the edge caught Boromir's wrist. Surprised, the Gondorian dropped his blade, gaze snapping up to meet the Ranger's. Neither moved for a fill thirty seconds. Boromir suddenly sprang forward to reclaim his sword. Swiftly, Aragorn moved forward and caught him by the wrist, twisting it behind his back. He held him pinned firmly against a tree, the hand that held his sword pressing the blade firmly between his shoulders. Panting and weary, he pressed firmly against his ear, rasping in a husky voice,  
"Do you yield?"  
A quiet laugh from the other man, but nothing more. This irritated him somewhat.  
"Do you yield?" he growled again, pressing the blade harder against his neck. The cold steel bit into his skin harshly, and he continued laughing.  
"Ow. There is really no need for that, now." Boromir insisted in a lighthearted tone. Aragorn sighed, hiding his evident irritation.  
"I grow weary of your games, Boromir." Nonetheless, he relented the blade somewhat.  
"Is that not what this is?" Boromir asked slyly, a smile spreading over his face. Aragorn rolled his eyes.  
"Have it your way, then. Have I won?" The Ranger tightened his grip on Boromir's wrist.  
"Ow. ow! Alright, yes!" The blonde man could not help from laughing again as his wrist was finally released. The coy smile had once again returned to his face, and he held his hands up in defeat as he turned to face his Ranger.  
"If it makes you happy, you win."  
Aragorn finally seemed satisfied with this. Boromir looked down, noting that even though he was no longer completely incapacitated against the tree, he was still rather stuck against it.  
"Now, move aside, if you please." he requested. His request was met by Strider's firm grip closing against his hips. He frowned and looked up to protest, but was cut off by the same smoldering gaze he had earlier used as an underhanded way to win the fight. He shivered involuntarily, automatically raising his hands to grip the Ranger's shoulders.  
"...Well, go on. Move." he said, clearing his throat and giving the taller man a firm shove. Aragorn did not back off, but moved closer. His gaze never faltered or wavered, holding the same defiance that Boromir had just previously looked upon him with.  
"I'd like to get by. Would you kindly move?" Boromir tried again, by now not expecting to have his way anymore. Brushing his lips softly against Boromir's in an almost-kiss, the elder granted him a response in a voice barely above a whisper, a triumphant smile slowly spreading over his face.  
"No."


End file.
